'Twas the Night After Christmas

I wrote this poem as a fun exercise for my Pure Fiction League writing group. For our holiday party we are asked to write a short story with a certain theme, and we put them in a pile to be read out loud by someone else. Then we try to guess who wrote it. The theme this year was simply "Christmas." And yes, I realize I cheated a bit by writing a poem. But it does tell a short story of how some people feel once Christmas is over. And the picture attached was done by my good friend and artist, Grant Sarber, who was kind enough to turn some of this silly copy into a great visual aid. Enjoy! 

'Twas the Night After Christmas

'Twas the night after Christmas and all through the home
The adults were hungover, exhausted or stoned.
The stockings were ransacked and totally bare
As the kids had all eaten the candy from there.

By 8 they were crazed, acting like crackheads,
But Grandma and Grandpa were ready for bed.
“All I want now is some time for a nap,”
Said Gramps on the couch with the dog on his lap.

When all of a sudden little Johnny went manic,
Bringing the parents right out in a panic.
The sugar rush caused him to go all “Hulk smash!”
Sending the lamp to the floor with a crash.

“Johnny! Calm down!” was all Dad could bellow
Before the boy ran straight into the fellow.
Mom grabbed his arm yelling, “Stop it! Come here!”
But Johnny broke free to avoid a sore rear.

They couldn’t believe he was just so damn quick.
No one could catch him, not even Cousin Nick.
Running and laughing he finally came
To the tree when everyone shouted his name.

“Wait, Johnny! Stop! You’re in so much trouble!”
“Hey dumbass, quit spazzing!” yelled his older brother.
But Johnny was already climbing the wall
And threatening to tear down the tree, bulbs and all.

But Grandma had done up the tree with such care
That NO ONE could touch it without her right there.
And so she had snuck by the rest of the pack
To make her last stand against Johnny’s attack.

“Boy, settle down.” Grammy waggled her finger
As Johnny looked threatening in his frenzied linger.
He reached for a tree branch but suddenly found
Grammy’s cane in his way as she smacked his arm down.

Oh, it was on as they surveyed each other,
Johnny’s eyes wide, he looked to his smug mother.
She shook her head saying, “You’re on your own.”
As Gramps shouted, “Johnny, give up! You are boned!”

But Johnny was young, naïve and so spry
There was no way Gram’s cane was a match for this guy.
Or so he had thought as he reached out again
And felt the hot sting of the wood on his skin.

Before he could move, Gram sprang into action
Yanking his shoulder while setting her traction.
Johnny fell head first, sprawled out on his belly
As Gramps laughed and shook like a bowlful of jelly!

“I told you,” he said as the boy cried and cried.
But all that was injured was his tiny pride.
The shock of it all brought him back to his senses
As he pondered the “too much sugar” consequences.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his sad eyes lowered,
“I just didn’t want this night to be over.”
Mom picked him up as he started to cough
Hoping he had learned not to piss Grandma off.

The chaos was over and all had retreated

Leaving Johnny to sit next to Gramps, so defeated.
As he leaned his head over, Gramps hugged him real tight.
“Merry Christmas, dear boy. Now get out of my sight!”